


i forgot to think of a title

by triangular



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M, anyway this actually was written pretty fast all things considered, fuckin'...., i have no true stance on noncon but this was actually requested as noncon, surprising right?, there's a few shitty inside jokes i have with myself in here but hopefully u still laugh, you can thank coffee
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-30
Updated: 2015-03-30
Packaged: 2018-03-20 08:33:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,816
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3643665
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triangular/pseuds/triangular
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>haha reading this is a bad idea anyway</p>
            </blockquote>





	i forgot to think of a title

Life has a shit sense of humor.

You were taking a usual monthly stroll through a forest taking some totally awesome nature photos with your camera when you spotted this little dude. Not like a little kid or a midget or anything but...well, if anything, it looked like a gnome!

Like any sensible person, you immediately snapped photos and pulled out your phone for probably the coolest selfie ever. Or of the month. Either way, it was going to happen.

 _Was_ being the operative word because as soon as you squatted down, leaned in close with the little guy, and tried to take the picture to make everyone in the world jealous, he grabbed the damn thing and ran!

You gave chase for a good while, but somehow that thing was able to outrun you. Or it hid. One way or the other, you found yourself lost, phoneless, and reaching dusk. If only you paid attention to where you were going earlier.

But fuck it, you looked at a rock and tried to remember that one Spongebob episode from when you were a kid and how it told you which way civilization was.

...And when you realized you were looking to Spongebob for a way out, you were really fucked. So you decided to head right and deal with whatever happened.

Now, you weren't exactly religious, but you knew someone or something "up there" must've been looking out for you when you finally saw a building coming into view between the trees. “Thank you Adam Sandler's comedic ability,” you sighed to yourself as you strode toward the big house.

It looked a little odd being by itself until you looked at the huge letterings on the roof declaring it was the Mystery Shack. That rang a bell, but it was one of those things that you only vaguely knew about because everyone in the city you lived in said to avoid it like hellfire. You only enjoyed the town for their scenery, personally. Tourist traps reminded you of, ugh, _Florida..._

As you knocked on the door, you hoped the proprietor of the, ahem, _lovely_ establishment would let you use his phone so you could call your ride to get you back to your place, or at least give you directions home.

“Fuck off! We don't do tours after six!”

_Yes. Lovely._

“Ah...sorry, sir! I just wanted to see if I could use your phone! I'm all by myself and I got lost. Sorry for the inconvenience,” you said in your most innocent voice, hoping to guilt him.

Something must've worked, because he quickly opened the door, proving to be an older man underdressed in a wifebeater and boxers. “Heh, so yer a chick, all by yourself?” He eagerly asked, rubbing his palms together almost cartoonishly.

“Uh...yes? Does that mean you're going to help me out?”

“Sure, sure... Come on in, sweetie, make yourself at home.”

You followed him inside the house—which confused you as to how it was also part attraction, but you guessed it was big enough to have another part—and noted how quiet it was, outside of the chatter of television and the patter of your footsteps.

“No one else living with you? This is a big place to keep for yourself,” you offered in conversation.

“Nope, employees are gone and the niece and nephew only visit during the summer,” he said flatly as he showed you into the kitchen. “Can I get you a drink?”

 _Well, I'd rather get home, but..._ “Sure. Whatcha got?”

“Eh, Pitt and whiskey.”

You darted your eyes and coughed, “Ah, Pitt. Thanks.” _I don't need a repeat of the last time I got drunk at a guy's house..._

“Alright. While I get it, phone's right there,” he nodded towards the hookup.

“Thanks, er...”

“Stan.”

“Thanks, Stan!” You gratefully cheered as you dialed up your friend.

“Hey, dude. I'm borrowing this nice guy's phone because—well, I'll tell you later. But I need you to get me from this place. It's located at... Uh...” You turned to Stan. “Um, what's this address?”

“412 Gopher Road,” he said without missing a beat.

“Yeah, didja get that? Cool, cool. Ten minutes? Sweet, I'll be here! Later, man,” you said as you hung up the phone. “Thanks again, I'd hate to be stuck here for longer than I have to. No offense, I have laundry and shit to do, y'know?”

Stan gruffly laughed and handed you a glass full of soda. “I getcha, kid. Here, drink up.”

You obliged and noticed how keenly he watched you through his glasses. It was a little unsettling, but you ignored it. Pitt was, after all, the pinnacle of good sodas.

He grew a large smirk and advised, “You know, ya might want to sit down, girlie.”

You looked at him with cocked brows until you felt yourself waver. _Oh, fuck._ You wanted to shout “J'accuse!” but you couldn't feel your mouth. In fact, within seconds, you couldn't feel a lot of things. Your vision was fading in and out of black before you collapsed and the last thing you heard was “Toldja.”

When you came to, you tried to rub your eyes but recognized your arms were tied above you. You were in a room, and...on a bed. Your legs were spread eagle, your ankles tethered to bedposts and...fuckity fucking _fuck_. You were nude. That fucking—shit, you didn't realize he was there at the foot of the bed.

And he was also nude. That should be duly noted. And stroking a hard on that pointed to Jesus as if saying “Guess who can't help you?”

Hah, yeah... your defense mechanism of trying to make a joke of the situation really wasn't working.

As if on cue, you burst into tears. All you could muster to ask was, “Why?”

“Sweetcheeks, I'm an old man who takes what he can get. And, _damn_ , if you aren't a catch.”

“P-please, if you just untie me and let me be, there'll be no trouble and I won't tell anybody!” You begged.

“How about I keep you here anyway? 'Cuz, ah, y'see that trophy behind me? Boxing. I can make sure ya hurt real bad if you blab to anyone,” he threatened in a low tone.

“B-b-but, what if my, uh, friend shows up?” You implored, desperate for a way out.

“Feh, you think I gave ya my real address? Rookie mistake,” he chuckled as he began to climb on top of the bed.

You shuddered as you felt his body heat mingle with yours, a predatory grin never leaving his face. Your heart was thumping against your ribcage as he stroked your cheek with his strong, calloused hand.

“Ya really are gorgeous, y'know,” he drawled, his hot breath hitting your face.

Before you could stop yourself, you spat on him and immediately regretted it, as he soured and showed how strong those boxer's hands are, sending a slap across your face.

“ _Don't_ try that shit again,” he barked as he wiped the saliva off. “And to think, I was gonna be gentle with ya...” He grabbed and squeezed your breast so tightly it hurt. “But I guess not.”

You bit your lip. The pain from your cheek radiated. “Please don't hurt me,” you pleaded in a tiny voice.

He laughed darkly and trailed his spare hand down your body to your cunt where he began rubbing his rough middle finger against your clit.

“F- _fuck!_ Stop!” You squeaked, trying to mask your reaction to no avail.

“Heheh, what's wrong? I only want you to feel good too, baby,” he purred as he began to suckle on your breast.

You whimpered and felt a shiver go through your spine. _It's...it's okay,_ you told yourself, _we've been screwed before, at least he has experience, right? Haha...who am I kidding? I can't joke my way into positivity. I'm going to be raped by this terrifying old man. And fuck knows if I'll get out of this alive..._

“Got something on your mind, toots?” Stan asked plainly as he put his hands on either side of you, looking into your eyes (something that skeeved you out). “Don't worry, in a few seconds you'll be thinking of nothing but my dick.”

You knitted your eyes shut and tried to swallow the lump that formed in your throat. _This is it, girlfriend..._

The amount of strength he used to force himself inside you caused you to yelp in pain and shock.

“Ah, _fuck yeah_ , haven't had a pussy this tight in ages,” he grunted, motioning to suck on your neck.

“ _Mmh_ —fuck!' You cried out, furious at your own conflicted, carnal desires.

“Hah, knew ya'd like my cock, you little slut,” he muttered in your ear.

Stan's powerful thrusts rocked the bed, pounding you with such gusto that you knew if you made it out you were going to be sore.

“ _Shhhit_ , I might just keep you in my basement, you're such a good fuck,” he said, oblivious to the drool trailing down his mouth like a dog.

“You try to keep me like a slave and I swear to fucking God, I'll fight you, old man; boxer or not,” you growled, finding your voice.

“Ooh, likes to talk tough, does she? Wait till I leave ya bloody and bruised, crying fer mommy when no one will listen to ya scream,” he returned with a toothy grin.

“You...you can fuck me, you can break me, but you can't break my spirit, fucker,” you hissed.

“Mm, I love how confident you are! Really turns me on,” he smirked, pinching your cheek. “Sorry, baby, but you can't stop me so, _nnh_ , easily.”

You tried. Honestly, you did. But he was simply a force to be reckoned with. Unwavering. You made a big mistake coming here and you couldn't get out of it. Tears welled in your eyes.

“Fine,” you whispered in the smallest, shakiest voice, “Do what you want.”

Something inside you fell dead, you could barely feel the way Stan had climaxed and filled you with his cum. You just wanted it to be over.

“Fuck,” he groaned as he pulled out, “I definitely don't have the same endurance as I used to.”

_Yes. Very interesting. Just get on with whatever you're going to do with me._

“God, toots, don't look so dull. Wasn't that any good fer ya? Sheesh.”

“...Are you done with me now?”

“Eh? Guess so, pretty damn satisfied.”

“Then please. Please. _Please_. Let. Me. Go."

“Hm. I could,” he pondered, taking a seat on the bed. “Highly possible.”

“Come on! I'll do anything! I've already fucked you, what else is there?!” You screeched, having a hard time suppressing your temper.

“I don't know...” He slowly turned to you and you saw his eyes flash yellow. “How about we make a deal?”


End file.
